Cat and Mau5
by DustyBullet
Summary: Frerard set in the Professional Griefers 'Verse. G3rard is one of the most popular fighters, and encounters a particularly admiring fan the night before a championship heat.
1. Eff0rtless

**Cat and Mau5**

**Chapter 1 – Eff0rtless**

Gerard's comm device buzzed in his pocket. It was Mikey.

**You go live in 3 minutes. M**

Gerard nodded to himself, rolling his shoulders and stretching out his neck. He switched the device to transmission, tapping Mikey's code before tucking it back in his pocket and inserting his ear piece.

"You there?" he tested.

"Loud and clear" came his brother's voice.

"You fix the tweaky knee joint?"

"Back to normal. You've got this."

Gerard nodded again and regarded the media tech that came toward him, gesturing for him to take his place. He was entering from the right hand side today. He could feel the crowd more than hear them. Their voices had melded together into a pulsing boom that vibrated in his chest. He closed his eyes as a beautician came toward him with a brush and let her dust over his face ready for camera.

He looked her over when she started fussing with his shirt – a particularly pointless exercise – and pegged her for a droid. It was the unwavering smile that did it. She looked like a relatively new model. The eyebrows were realistically threaded through her skin canvas and her movements were fluid. Gerard supposed that the television station was wealthy enough to afford the best quality tech, and it showed.

"Broadcast has just begun. If you could enter the arena on my mark, Mr. Way" she said smoothly, voice not betraying a hint of her robotic nature. Her arm was held outright in front of Gerard's chest to stop him from entering screen too early.

Gerard could hear the ringmaster announcing the arrival of his opponent. He was fighting Tash – known as T45H in the fighting circuit. She was a pretty decent player. They'd trained together a little bit back in the day. But Gerard knew he had the crowd behind him.

Ever since he'd won the Interstellar Championships 18 months ago up on Jupiter he'd been catapulted into the public eye and had unwittingly become one of the most popular fighters both on and off planet. In the darkness of the current recession UFC was a beam of light, providing an escape, a passionate outlet for the fans, of which there were many. Gerard was proud to be able to give that element of hope, and was more grateful for the public's support than they would ever know. He gave it his all every time he stepped out from behind the curtain, whether it was just a friendly heat or a televised championship bout.

The customary nerves settled delicately in the pit of his stomach. However confident he may feel about the upcoming match – Tash was sweet but absolutely no match for him – he'd never stop worrying about those first seconds that he stepped out of the curtain. The crowd could boo or they could cheer him; as long as he kept getting _some_ kind of reaction everything was okay.

The crowd sounded kind, giving Tash more of a welcome than he'd expected. Then again, televised events were always rowdier for being the most coveted. Tickets could be resold for three times the price easily; a good deal more for championships and finals. In the current economic climate being a ticket tout was one of the most solid 'career' options. However broke people were they'd sell their very souls for UFC tickets; that's just how popular the sport had become.

"Are you ready, sir?" the droid cooed, smile still rigid.

Gerard flipped down his sunglasses from where they rested on top of his head. He nodded. He could hear the beginnings of his announcement.

_And her opponent ~_

"You're on in 3- 2- 1. Good luck, sir."

_~ Youngest Interstellar Champion of aaaalllll time~_

The droid lowered her arm and Gerard marched through the short corridor, emerging from the curtain just as the announcer finished calling his name. The audience went up in roars. He was bracketed on either side by two security droids as he made his way down to the box. This wasn't a particularly flashy venue; their equipment was set up inside a simplistic Perspex box. He let the noise of the crowd tamper down the fluttering in his stomach, and by the time he reached his set-up he was perfectly calm.

As he span and waved to the crowd – inciting another influx of noise – he couldn't quite tamper down his smile as he spotted Tash looking up at him with a smirk. In ordinary circumstances he'd have leant down and kissed her cheek, asked her how she'd been. But he needed to play his part for now. There was all the time in the world for pleasantries afterward.

He settled down in the chair, reaching for his controller and briefly checking all of the wires.

"They're feelin' your vibe."

Gerard looked over and grinned. Tash was sitting cross-legged in her own seat, dressed head to toe in a blue rubber suit, hair scraped back off her head into a tight ponytail. Even through the shade of his glasses he could see that she wasn't going to give up without a fight. Just the way he liked it. It didn't hurt to make her quake in her stiletto boots, though.

"Of course they are. Haven't lost in 17 fights."

She tucked her tongue in her cheek and turned back to her equipment, making him chuckle. He stood, listening to Mikey chatter away about her stats in his left ear, and went through the familiar motions of setting up his bot.

Several feet in front of their Perspex shelter stood his 35 foot Mau5bot, an eerily psychotic-looking metal construction with mouse ears. He toggled through the settings, booting it up without really paying attention to what he was doing. It was simply second nature now. The second his Mau5 was at full power it turned its head and looked down at Gerard with its permanently fixed grin, teeth stained with fake blood that Gerard had painted on himself.

"You okay up there, El?" Gerard murmured absent-mindedly.

His giant blue bot nodded heavily before turning its head back to face its pink adversary. The Mau5bots were almost completely dependent on their users. They were fitted with the lowest amount of AI necessary to ensure the correct execution of counter attacks and balance awareness, but they relied on their user for 99% of their movement. Each Mau5 was rigorously checked over by scrutineers before each match, just in case some smart alec had attempted to surreptitiously fit their machine with the lightning-quick reflexes of a regular droid.

Mau5bots within the same division were all the same in terms of their physical properties, such as height, weight and material. However they were customisable in terms of their appearance, as long as each bot was adorned with digits that corresponded to that of their player; G3RARD'S "3" opposing T45H's "45".

Gerard tested out each limb quickly before settling back in his seat and flicking through his summary holograms, noting that the left arm wasn't quite back to full capacity following his last fight. He judged that it wouldn't matter overly much, but he mentioned it to Mikey, who made notes back in their team room.

The ringmaster checked briefly with each of them that they were ready to proceed. Fitting the controller into the familiar groove of his hands Gerard manipulated the analogue sticks and moved his bot forward to meet the other, where they touched paws as a throwback to the physical sports of old.

UFC as it was in 2038 was drastically different to how it had started out. Rigorously trained muscular fighters beating each other with their fists were long redundant. Nowadays the fighting was left to droids and the skill was in the game. However, as the scantily clad ring girl walked between them, holding a "Round 1" placard high above her head, Gerard was reminded that some things never change.

They began.

The noise of the crowd increased tenfold immediately, as Gerard scooted to the edge of his seat to allow quick execution of his first move, slapping a button on his control desk to initiate a right-pawed middle blow. His heart hammered with the usual adrenaline but his hands were steady.

Mikey called encouragingly in Gerard's ear as he slipped into an easy shin-kick and left-pawed head shot to follow. The pink bot stumbled back, Tash fumbling with her controller to keep it on its feet, and Gerard shifted his into a quick dash to put more power behind the shoulder block he executed, holding in a button on the right hand side of his station. The crowd cheered every time he hit a move, but Tash didn't let it rattle her, reaching onto her own panel and moving 45 into a slight crouch, bashing 3 on the underside of its chin as it rose up again.

In response, Gerard moved the left leg backwards to steady his bot, and then hit a selection of buttons quickly to execute a duck and right-pawed uppercut that unbalanced their opponent and sent it crashing to the ground, the sound of metal clashing waging war with the screams of the audience.

Watching avidly, Gerard spoke aloud along with the three count and raised an arm in victory when the first round was declared his. The crowd cheered ecstatically, happy that their hero was on top thus far. Gerard couldn't resist shooting a sneaky grin at Tash. Thankfully she just laughed and shook her head, keying in the options to pick 45 up off its feet.

"That shoulder block was nice, bro" Mikey commented appreciatively in his ear. "Now shut this shit down, I've gotta make a move."

Gerard snorted. Mikey got the shitty end of the gig sometimes. Gerard was playing a championship heat in the morning so Mikey had to ensure all of their stuff was in the next venue ASAP to allow for scrutineering and promptly completed admin.

"Come on" Gerard murmured aloud to his mau5. "Need to get this done in one piece, okay?"

A second ring girl with a cropped shirt barely covering her breasts walked into the box with the placard for Round 2 amidst whooping and cat calls from the crowd. The announcer called it and Gerard slammed his controller immediately, yanking 3 away from the attempted grapple that he'd anticipated. In response he mashed counterattack and watched his mau5bot attempt an elbow to 45's head. The distance was off slightly and Gerard let out a surprised laugh as the botched impact dislocated the hinges of their opponent's ear, sending it skidding across the floor with a horrid screech.

"Fuck!" cried Tash, who was too shocked to block the second elbow to the back of the head.

This time they hit dead on, and 45's knees buckled, sending it crashing down into a heap on top of 3's feet. Gerard slung one arm over the back of his chair and nudged his analogue stick with one hand to order his mau5 to step back, allowing Tash's droid to faceplant properly as the ringmaster began the three count.

He pushed his sunglasses up off his head briefly to wink at Tash, unable to tamper down his grin, and watched her roll her eyes, shaking her head as G3RARD was named the winner. Gerard raised his controller as the crowd went wild, manipulating the analogues to raise the arms of his mau5 in victory.

No matter how many times he stood victorious like this, it would never be enough, and he treasured every second, grinning unabashedly out at the crowd who screamed his name in response.


	2. Sm0ke

**Cat and Mau5**

**Chapter 2 – Sm0ke**

"That was a very quick round there, G3rard. Was that a deliberate move on your part?"

Gerard shook his head, frowning a little, and tried to address the journaldroid without paying overly much attention to the camera rammed in his face.

"No, not at all. You can't anticipate stuff like that. You just play the game and see how it comes out, you know?"

The second he finished answering another journalist jumped in with another question.

"Was this just a walk in the park for you, Mr. Way?"

Gerard smirked before he could help himself and felt all the cameras click, capturing the confident smile of the victor to plaster all over the sports mags in the morning. He caught himself and shook his head.

"No, no. I mean, I can't exactly deny that it was an easy win, but you never go into a fight taking that for granted. There's a fine line between confidence and arrogance and I'm always very conscious of that limit." He gave the reporter another smile and waved away all the other questions, demanding their attention as the recorders were thrust further forward. "You can never be too sure with T45h, she's a little firecracker. I see big things in her future."

He finished out the remainder of questions succinctly and charmingly until he was ushered away by his manager and left to his own devices. He always had a lot of press to deal with after shows; photo shoots, interviews and press release shots for the venue. It meant he usually had to wait at least 2 hours after a fight until he found himself alone and able to reflect on his performance. Gerard's manager Blake Perry had congratulated him on a job well done but had made himself scarce relatively quickly. Gerard had never had much of a relationship with him. The extent of Perry's interest in Gerard was limited to how much money they could mutually make for each other. Gerard tolerated the man for the business side of things, but it had never been about the money for him, and that's a point they just couldn't see eye to eye on.

When all of the media crap was over and done with Gerard was happy to find Tash backstage when he went to collect his belongings.

"Hey" he smiled happily, approaching her and placing the kiss upon her cheek that he'd wished to give her earlier. "How have you been? How's 45?" he grinned cheekily.

She scrunched up her mouth but couldn't hide her smile, smacking him in the chest.

"She was fine until you knocked her fucking ear off, you jerk."

He laughed, holding his palms outward.

"That was a total accident, I swear to god."

"No, I saw that" she chuckled, bending to pick up her bag. "Fair play to you, honey, it was a clean win."

"Thank you."

"I'm rooting for you, babe. Get to the World's; knock him off his pedestal."

It meant a lot to Gerard that she wouldn't openly offer her support in such a candid manner. The man who had brought UFC to prominence – Deadmau5 – was the current world champion and anyone who was anyone on the circuit aspired to take the top spot from him.

"Hey, are you free now?" he asked, holding the door open for her. "I have a heat in the morning; gotta stay in the city. Did you wanna hang?"

"I would but I really need to head home, get 45 fixed up." She gave his hand a squeeze. "Good luck for tomorrow. I'll see you around, okay?"

They bid each other farewell and Gerard started off down the street without much approximation of where he was going. The problem fighting so late in the evening meant that now he was wired, with any possibility of sleep a long way off. But where did you hang out when you were a universally famous UFC fighter without being bombarded by fans? The seediest little backstreet bars you could find, that's where; where the only people who would recognise him would be too fucked out of their faces to notice.

He began to walk, away from the city lights and into the urban reaches. His comm buzzed in his pocket and Gerard reached for it, answering with video. As expected, Mikey's face popped up.

"You alright?" Gerard asked. He shifted his bag on his shoulder, noticing from the background of the screen that Mikey was in the next venue.

"Yep, all's good over here. Did you have much press?"

"Not as much as I'll have tomorrow. Hey, is El on?"

Gerard was loath to refer to his mau5bot by his player number outside of matches, a quirk that others found a little strange. Mikey rolled his eyes, turning and angling his comm so that Gerard's bot slipped into the shot.

"You alright?" Gerard called, unashamed. "Nice job on that ear. I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

Mikey was still rolling his eyes when he turned the camera back onto himself.

"You _do_ know that she doesn't understand the majority of what you say to her, don't you? She doesn't have enough artificial intelligence for that."

"She knows" Gerard smiled; keeping to his little rituals no matter how silly his brother and manager thought they were. "Has she been seen yet?"

"Scrutineer came and spot-checked about a half hour ago. She's clean, obviously."

"Of course she is. I'll head along in the morning, check in somewhere tonight."

"Yep, no problem" Mikey nodded, looking out to his right and back again, brows knit. "Hey, do you know who 413 is?"

Gerard frowned, thinking and trying to put a face to the player number. He came up blank, blowing out a breath.

"Nope, doesn't ring a bell."

He was hardly worried. It was customary to have not heard of his opponent in the heats, and hopefully ensured a quick progression into the next round. If he could win this tournament he was almost guaranteed a spot at the World Championships, and he was expecting to fight some big names on his way there. He had to keep pushing forward, striving for better, for bigger.

Looking around, Gerard found himself in the bad part of town and turned down a side street, gravitating toward the dirty pink lights illuminating the dark sky.

"How's her left arm baring up?"

"Better. We worked on it earlier and it's looking much better. Shouldn't cause you any problems."

"Cool" Gerard said absent-mindedly, pushing on the door of the bar with his shoulder blade. "Hey, I've gotta split. I'll see you in the morning, alright? Say goodnight to El for me, would you?"

Mikey groaned.

"I'm not saying goodnight to your fucking-"

"Night, El!" Gerard laughed out, adding "Love you!" for extra measure.

"Jesus fucking Christ" Mikey sighed, ending the call.

Gerard snorted to himself and tucked it away in his pocket, approaching the bar. Just as he'd hoped, the bartender barely looked up when he barked for Gerard's order. He was tempted – just for a second – to dip his tongue into some beer, but he was all too conscious of the fact that he had to leave for his next match in precisely 7 and a half hours, so he opted for pepsi. He paid by card, much to the distaste of the barkeep, and keyed in his code as quickly as possible just to get out of the way.

He moved to the other end of the bar to sit, not caring to draw attention to himself by meandering to a table. The covering on the barstool was thin and lumpy and the table top was unwashed and sticky. He placed his cloudy glass down gingerly and reached for his comm. He flicked mindlessly through unread emails and messages. The majority of them were from companies he was affiliated with; requesting interviews, photoshoots, offering paid promotional work and requesting that he advertise their products by being seen to use them in public. There was one promising message from _Pump The Blood_, a sporting media outlet who were offering sponsorship that Gerard sent along to Blake, but otherwise his inbox was not enough to hold his attention for long.

He sipped on his pepsi – a little flat, naturally – and sighed a little. He couldn't wait until the next championship was fully underway. At least that way he'd have people to actually hang with in between matches. It was hard trying to strike the balance between being alone and being overwhelmed by company. He flicked his comm onto compute and searched for hotels in the vicinity, resigning himself to curling around uncomfortably starched bed sheets until he could feel sleep lapping at the edge of his brain.

He was unaware of the man's presence at his side until he spoke.

"Uh, excuse me."

Sometimes the sound of enquiring fan would make Gerard wince, if the match had been especially hard-going and he just wanted to sleep, but this time he was truthfully a little relieved to have the break from himself.

"I'd ask you if you are who I think you are, but it seems a little redundant, considering I'm 99% sure" the fan grinned a little sheepishly, running a hand through his hair and resting it at the back of his neck.

Gerard's mouth quirked up at one side in response, and he swivelled on his stool, holding out a hand.

"G3rard. Pleased to meet you."

The man goggled a little at Gerard's politeness but tried not to let it show.

"Frank. Jazzed to meet you, too."

"You wanna sit down, Frank?"

"You're not busy or anything?"

Gerard raised an eyebrow, flitting his eyes from one wall to the other. Frank laughed to himself and pulled the free barstool out.

"Guess you wouldn't be here if you were, right? Speaking of which…_really_? Not the nicest joint in the world."

"That's kinda the point" said Gerard, sliding the rest of his drink down his throat.

"You come here to escape the hordes?" Frank smiled, hailing down the bartender. "I get that."

Gerard accepted Frank's offer of a second drink and they sat companionably, hands wrapped around their glasses.

"I love meeting the fans; I mean of course I do. But sometimes when there are literally hundreds outside the venue, or hanging around in the bar wanting photos or signatures… I dunno, it starts to feel more like a press appearance rather than actually meeting people, you know?"

Frank nodded, understanding.

"I guess you get a lot of that." He sat back a little and threw an arm out. "Well, congratulations anyway. I was watching - someplace else, obviously - and the room fucking blew up when you knocked that ear off."

Gerard grinned down at his glass.

"I didn't see it coming any more than you did. But thank you. I appreciate the support."

Their eyes met and they both smiled. This was the kind of fan Gerard preferred meeting. One who actually had things to say, rather than just requesting a signature or photograph as evidence to show their friends that it had actually happened. Frank hadn't asked for either of these; in fact, he was even understanding as to how those things could be a burden.

The man opposite him was slight and undeniably attractive. He had a head full of short but full hair, bangs pushed back off his face and his eyes were large; soft, focused and the same approximate hue of Gerard's. The guy was covered in tattoos – permanent ones by the looks of things, as opposed to the semi-permanent lasered variety that were more _of the time, _favoured by the indecisive and non-committal. Nothing about Frank but for his obvious taste for UFC was particularly of the time, in fact. His clothes were simple, much like Gerard's. Frank was dressed in well-worn faux-denim jeans and a threadbare tshirt that looked like it had originated from a different time – perhaps half a century ago.

As Gerard took another sip of his flat beverage Frank hooked his feet around the bar on his stool, lifting up slightly to retrieve a small silver case from his back pocket. He opened it up, sliding a cigarette between his lips and offering the case toward Gerard. Gerard was hesitant. The last thing he needed was to be snapped smoking up. God but he wanted it, though.

"These are…real?" he goggled, lowering his voice.

Frank nodded, confirming to Gerard that they were made from authentic outlawed tobacco, as opposed to the simulations and herbal varieties that were legally consumed in their place.

"Yeah, I don't like sims much." He grinned, a little amused by Gerard's reluctance and darting eyes. "It's okay, I promise. No one will bat an eyelid in a place like this. Ash on the fucking floor and see if they care."

Gerard took another cautious look around, but conceded that Frank was right. He took one, holding it in his mouth and moving forward to meet the flame that Frank held in his fist.

The first hit was dizzying. Not only was it the real deal, but it was a fucking decent blend. He hadn't smoked anything this good since he'd been in college, covertly sharing a stick with his friends on the edge of campus. That was several years ago now, and with his rise to fame within the fighting circuit he hadn't dared smoke up illegals and had stuck to herbals mostly when he needed a kick.

He shook his head as he exhaled leisurely, making Frank laugh a little.

"It's good, right?"

"Fuck yes" Gerard sighed. "Thanks. …You won't, uhh-?"

"I wouldn't tell. What do you take me for?" Frank teased, taking another drag happily.

Gerard nodded, satisfied somehow that he could take Frank at his word.

They finished out their cigarettes in silence, unwilling to converse in between drags and let the precious tobacco burn out without them. Gerard sighed when it was done, now extremely grateful that he'd made the decision to slink into this grotty dive. Blinking a little he then fumbled for his wallet, mentally trying to remember if he had any cash on him.

"Oh! Did you want anything for it? I mean, it must have set you back. You know I'm good for it."

Frank waved off the comment, shaking his head sternly.

"No charge. I'm not a fucking dealer or anything, I just wanted to…share…with you." He coughed a little, awkwardly.

Gerard smiled, halting his actions and curling his hand back around his glass.

"Then thank you."

Frank smiled back, knocking his own pepsi back with a grimace.

"Another?"

Gerard nodded, gesturing the bartender himself this time, figuring it was his round. If the boy wasn't going to accept any cash, the least Gerard could do was pay him back in companionship and conversation for a while longer.


	3. D1vulge

**Cat and Mau5**

**Chapter 3 – D1vulge**

"I don't know, man. I guess I was born in the wrong era or something. I miss when music was made with instruments forged from wood rather than mashing a few buttons on a computer."

Gerard nodded in agreement, fingering the moisture on the outside of his glass. They'd been sitting together for close to an hour now, talking easily back and forth over topics they seemingly held similar opinions on; music, books, films. The conversation always came to a head on the same point, circling back to how much they preferred these mediums of entertainment before they were technologically up to date.

For example, Gerard was quite a sci-fi movie buff until the things portrayed as being futuristic became staples of his everyday life. There was something wonderful about knowing a great chunk of the film budget went into CGI, where the filmmakers would desperately try and make this otherworldly device look natural and realistic. Nowadays if they wanted to showcase the use of a teleportation device they simply _used_ one. Sci-fi was pretty much a dead genre. If a new piece of tech was dreamt up it was instead worked on by the big companies until it became a reality, rather than used fictitiously in a piece of film.

Frank snorted briefly.

"Listen to us" he smiled, realising the irony. "Bitching about tech and how books used to be all paper and spine. The only reason I know who you are is through an intergalactic robot fighting circuit."

Gerard laughed loudly, nodding again.

"Good point."

Apart from the very beginning of their conversation Frank had mostly bypassed the subject of UFC, probably not wanting to seem like the desperate fan Gerard had come here to avoid. Gerard felt a little bad about it, like perhaps he should offer an autograph or something. But then that seemed a little conceited, that he would thrust forth his penmanship when it hadn't been asked for.

"Have you watched much of T45h before today?" he asked casually, easing into the subject.

"Um, a little" Frank replied. "She seems alright. …I mostly just follow you though." Frank flushed a little, but didn't look away.

Gerard felt a little flutter in his stomach but he willed it away, meeting Frank's eyes steadily.

"It's okay to talk about it, you know. It's kind of my life."

Frank grinned, as if he'd been waiting for permission.

"How did you get into it? Forgive me for saying, but you don't look like your typical fighter."

Gerard waved away the comment, knowing it and having accepted it long ago.

"No, I know. I, uhh. I wouldn't really say my decision to join was all that typical either."

It was a question that tended to get bypassed in interviews nowadays. He supposed that the circuit was all too used to his presence now and were always more focused on what was coming next rather than where he began. However, this was a story that he always liked to revisit. And there was something about Frank that made him feel particularly forthcoming.

"I guess I always liked it, just like everyone. Me and my brother Mikey were in our teens when UFC started coming into prominence. The whole family used to huddle round the television set for Fight Night and we all got really into it. Mom used to swoon over the fighters, Dad was really into the tech and I guess me and Mikey just liked the action."

"I used to geek out so bad" Frank grinned.

"Oh man, us too" Gerard laughed. "I mean we were in our teens but when our Grandma Elena bought us our first set of Mini-M1ce it was like the fucking best thing ever."

He reminisced about that Christmas. He and Mikey had pushed all the furniture back against the wall and spent pretty much the whole day making their mini mau5bots fight each other in the centre of the lounge. It had quickly gotten on their mother's nerves, but their grandmother had sat by happily all day, cheering on each of her grandkids in turn while she sipped on sherry and made them stop every once in a while for sustenance.

"We used to pile our money together to buy the latest model and Mikey used to hand out cheap business holo-cards to the kids in the neighbourhood, offering to fix their broken m1ce for a fee. It was our escape, you know? School was pretty shitty mostly, but whenever we could get a neighbourhood M1ce tournament going it made everything feel easier."

"Plus you always won, right?" Frank asked, tongue in his cheek.

"Mostly" Gerard smiled back. "Mikey wasn't so great at execution, but he got really good at the tech and fixing them up; modifications and stuff. He's my chief mau5 mechanic now" he grinned with pride.

"That's really iced. Sibling team. I take it you work together pretty well?"

Gerard nodded.

"Yeah, he's like my best friend."

Gerard gave Frank a grateful look as another cigarette was offered, willing to talk as he smoked now that he'd already savoured the initial stick.

"So, how did you get into the big leagues?" Frank asked on his exhale.

Gerard's smile mellowed out, sadness creeping into his eyes. He took another drag of the expensive cigarette before he continued to speak.

"My grandma always believed that I had a talent for it, that it wasn't just a bit of fun. She believed I was born for it, and that I could really do it if I had my own mau5; beat the best of the best, travel the world and make people happy." He inhaled again, pressing the pad of his thumb to the corner of one eye. "When she died, she left her inheritance solely to Mikey and I." He choked out a short laugh. "Apparently she'd been quite explicit to my parents about how she wanted us to spend the money. She wanted us to buy a mau5 and she wanted us to get me in the big leagues together, as a team."

Frank shook his head in amazement, curling a hand around Gerard's forearm in comfort.

"That's amazing; that she believed in your abilities enough to ensure that you could get started out." He grinned. "Coolest Granny ever."

Gerard looked up, once again smiling despite himself. He didn't shift his arm underneath Frank's grip.

"Damn straight." He gestured with the hand he held his cigarette in, continuing his story. "So from there we decided to fucking honour her crackpot wishes, you know? We bought a mau5 – a beat up featherweight to begin with because that's all we could afford. Mikey fixed it up some and we got my username registered with the bot license. I fought in underground circuits for about a year just trying to make a name for myself. I got picked up by an indie who let me fight friendlies on their tv slot every week until I was big enough to get sponsored. That's when I met Perry – my manager – and he got us in a featherweight tournament. Didn't lose a single fight, won the cup and by then I was pretty hot shit." He smiled, remembering. "Soon there was noise about moving me into the heavies, and my sponsors came together to get us enough money to get a heavyweight mau5."

That had been a wonderful day – looking through all the basic bots and deciding which to get for Mikey to fix up and make their own. They were all subtly different – in terms of layout and default stats. And then he saw her.

"That's when I really came into my own" Gerard said. "When I got my heavyweight bot."

There had been something about her, sitting in the corner grinning at him, collecting dust. Gerard had decided he was gonna rescue her from that warehouse like the sport had rescued him so long ago.

"I call her El – named for my grandmother" he explained. "- and now I'm fighting my way up to the World Championships."

Frank was grinning with admiration again, and with one last squeeze he removed his hand from Gerard's arm.

"Seems like a pretty awesome life. Is it?"

Gerard smiled genuinely, as he always did when this question was put to him.

"Pretty fucking much, yeah. I get to travel not only the world, but the galaxy doing what I love. I get to fight, train and mingle with the hottest fighters on the circuit. And above all I get to help people."

Frank had rested his chin in his palm and was quietly watching Gerard as he spoke, wildly gesturing with his hands to emphasise his words.

"This world is dark. We have stuff, all this _stuff_, but we don't have happiness, and trust and fucking decent food. Everything's mass produced and synthetic because we've destroyed everything. Machinery and electronics we don't _need_ we have aplenty. But naturally grown fruit, vegetables and fucking _coffee_? We have none of that. Or if we do it comes at a price; a price that not many can afford in this economy." He took a steadying breath, aware that he'd digressed into one of his rants. "Almost everyone I know is on tranqs or mood stabilisers. Because what do we have? In the past people used to pour their passion into sport, or fiction, or music made with actual heart. Those things are a dying breed now. There's no escape."

"Except UFC" Frank smiled softly.

"Except UFC" he agreed. "It's pretty much the only thing we've got left; the only thing that everyone can look to when they need to forget how shitty their life is. We're here to fight, to entertain, so that people can pour their passion into _us_; pick their side and cheer us on 'til the end. Because we're all going through the same thing. And it's okay, because we're just as messed up as you."

Gerard took another deep breath, feeling better for saying it. When he slid a look over to his companion, Frank's eyes were a little glassy, even as he kept smiling. Gerard froze, unsure what to do when Frank sniffed loudly and swiped a hand across his face, looking a little embarrassed. Thankfully he saved Gerard from having to make some sort of awkward reply as he declared:

"I'm not on tranqs. I'm not on moods either. And it's all because of you."

Gerard could feel his heart clutching at his rib cage. It hadn't worn off. Every time a fan told him how much he'd helped them the feeling never dulled. Perhaps his responses had become routine over time, but the sincerity was always just as strong.

Frank took a sobering drag on his cigarette, exhaling and blinking away the moisture in his eyes.

"Everything you just said is right on the money. There's no hope, no happiness that can be easily found. But I found mine in you." He held out a hand that Gerard took in a stationary handshake. "Thank you."

Gerard squeezed Frank's hand and smiled. It was finding people like Frank that made everything seem worthwhile, even if on occasion it left him a little speechless.

Frank took his hand back and finished off the rest of his cigarette happily in silence, signifying to Gerard that he wasn't in need of a response. Gerard followed suit, inhaling the last of his and stubbing it out in the ashtray Frank pushed his way.

"They're too fucking good" Gerard said, shaking his head reverently as he blew out his final exhale.

There was a pause between them as Frank stared at Gerard's face with a considering look upon his face, as if he was weighing up options in his mind. Gerard felt a little flushed under the intense gaze but couldn't make himself look away. Frank did once, briefly, looking to his lap and smiling to himself. But his features were focused when he looked back up. Slowly and deliberately he slid his gaze from Gerard's eyes down to his mouth, held, and crept back up again.

"I've got some more back at my place."

Frank's voice was steady with the suggestion but Gerard's heartbeat was far from calm. Just in that one gesture Frank had made it perfectly clear what was on offer, and another cigarette was only just touching the surface. What shocked Gerard more than anything was that he wanted it, even more than he'd wanted that first smoke.

Gerard didn't _do_ this. Gerard was an intergalactically renowned star. He might not have got into this game for the fame but it had clung to him nevertheless. Now it was an everyday presence in his life, one that he couldn't discount. Gerard was well aware of the emotional investment the fans placed in him and had never wanted to abuse such unconditional affection. Gerard didn't fuck fans; plain and simple. That had never been what this was about.

But for the first time in months, perhaps even a year, Gerard found himself wanting to bend the parameters of his own rules. In the space of an hour this had gone from being a fan, to being _Frank._ Frank who wears t-shirts that most would see fit to be binned. Frank who smokes authentic tobacco cigarettes despite the law. Frank who misses the smell of paper and ink cased in the spines of musty old books. Frank who thinks Elena was right.

Gerard hadn't found anyone he could talk to so easily in a long time and he was damned if he was going to lose that by sticking to a set of rules that thus far had only brought him loneliness. Plus, he won the fucking match.

Casting aspersions to the wind Gerard leant forward before he could talk himself out of it and met Frank on the mouth. Frank's was soft and malleable under his and opened up easily. When the kiss ended Gerard drew back only slightly, so that when he spoke his breath cooled the saliva that clung to Frank's bottom lip.

"You live local?"

Frank pushed forward and ravaged Gerard's mouth once more before he answered, already becoming greedy for the taste.

"I know you have a match in the morning" he replied assuredly. "You'll get there."

Gerard hopped off his barstool and took Frank by the hand, hoping they were safe enough in this neighbourhood to escape the paparazzi.

"Lead the way."


	4. Sh33ts

**Cat and Mau5**

**Chapter 4 – Sh33ts**

Gerard was thankful that Frank hadn't been kidding when he'd assured him that his place was nearby. They'd only hoofed 3 or 4 blocks and Gerard hadn't even had to urge Frank to hurry. He was a clever guy; he knew how much trouble it would cause Gerard to be caught out with him and wasn't offended by it in the least. Technology might have come in leaps and bounds since the early 00's but unfortunately the public's penchant for 'celebrity gossip' had not.

They had continued to talk on the way to the apartment, Frank now unencumbered and unembarrassed to chatter away about UFC. Nothing about the arrangement felt unnatural. They found each other easy to converse with and enjoyed doing so.

"How many are you up to now?" Frank asked as he punched in the code for his door.

"18 matches without a loss" Gerard told him proudly, stomach now a little jittery.

Frank hummed appreciatively as he stepped into the hallway, stopping to close the door and check that the lock had engaged behind them. Gerard walked ahead and stood in the centre of what constituted Frank's lounge, dropping his bag onto the sofa. The apartment wasn't desperately new but it was fitted with a modern layout and matching décor. The surfaces were dark and smooth like plastic, though they were hardy and took a lot to scratch. Gerard's footsteps echoed as he stepped on the synthetic wood flooring and he poked his head into two adjacent rooms; a small kitchen with a beaten up automatic MealMaker, and a bathroom. Gerard found himself thinking about how the building looked nothing like Frank, and then questioned whether he really had the credentials to be making such an observation.

When he turned back around Frank was looking a little nervous.

"It's nice" Gerard said in reference to the apartment, attempting to lessen the tension.

"No it's not" Frank smiled. "It's modern and generic and plain fucking boring."

"Everything you're not" Gerard replied quietly.

There was a pause as the air thickened between them, but Frank obviously wasn't willing to capitalise on it just yet. He tucked his hands in his pockets and moved toward the kitchen.

"Would you like some coffee?"

Gerard was of half a mind to disregard the question and close the gap between them to claim Frank's mouth, but then it clicked – a little spark of an inkling – and all impure thoughts were dead in the water.

"Wait. It's real, isn't it?"

Frank only smiled. Gerard moved forward and placed his hands on Frank's cheeks in urgency, all lustful charge in the action dissipated.

"You have real coffee, don't you? Coffee made from real beans. You're Frank; you don't like sims."

Frank was grinning by this point, and he only had to begin to move his head into a nod before Gerard planted a chaste but enthusiastic kiss on his lips.

"Then hell yes I'd like some coffee."

They meandered into the small kitchen unit and Gerard hoisted himself up onto the countertop, lightly swinging his legs as he sat. Frank programmed his MealMaker for two cups, asking for Gerard's preference on sweetener – unfortunately he couldn't stretch to authentic sugar – and leant back against the opposite cabinet as they waited.

"You must pay through the fucking nose for this stuff" Gerard said reverently as Frank retrieved another pair of cigarettes as promised. "Real tobacco, real coffee. It must set you back."

"Yeah, it's not cheap" Frank assured him as he passed over a lighter. "But I'd rather have a little of something real than a lot of something fake."

Gerard agreed with the sentiment and puffed away on his cigarette happily, already not looking forward to the next time he had to choke down a herbal and pretend to be grateful for it. He didn't usually consider himself one for illegal substances, but although he'd never approached a dealer himself, Gerard had never been able to resist tobacco when it was offered to him.

When Frank moved towards him with an ash tray to dispose of the spent stick Gerard leant down and caught Frank in another closed-mouthed kiss. It was weird, that it should feel so natural to exchange casual displays of affection with a man who didn't even qualify as a one night stand yet. He didn't have much time to ponder over it though, for Frank was already reaching into the MealMaker and retrieving Gerard's cup.

Gerard made grabby hands unashamedly and cradled the mug to his chest, breathing in the scent of the genuine roasted blend like it was an illegal in itself. It slid down his throat like liquid gold, coating his insides with warmth and tainting his mouth with a tinge of happy bitterness. Gerard could barely remember what his plans for the evening had been before he'd met Frank and had been spoilt with such elusive tastes.

"What are you smiling about?" Frank asked.

"Just happy I ended up here rather than alone in some grotty motel" he smiled in response, setting aside his drained cup.

Frank walked to him wordlessly, standing between Gerard's legs and running his hands absently along the side of his thighs up on the counter. He looked up with questions in his eyes.

"Why?" he asked. "Why _are_ you here? You're G3rard. Thousands of men and women alike would give their left leg to be with you. You could have anyone; you know that. Why are you here…with me?"

Gerard considered the question and thought of how he'd known intrinsically that he had to bend that rule, just this once. He skimmed a hand around Frank's jaw to rest at the base of his hairline.

"I guess…I'd rather have a little of something real than a lot of something fake."

The understanding passed between them silently and Frank couldn't quite hide his smile as his words were tossed affectionately back at him.

This time when they met for a kiss they both opened up immediately, chastity shot to dust and passion rife in the movement of their mouths. Frank's hands were still glued to Gerard's thighs, but Gerard's constantly shifted between cupping Frank's face and thumbing through his hair. Frank's mouth tasted of the things they'd recently consumed, the things that he wasn't used to but tasted strangely like home, and he couldn't get enough, sliding his tongue along Frank's and inhaling harshly through his nose.

When they stopped for a more substantial breath Frank took Gerard's hand, urging him to hop down from the counter. Frank grinned and tugged Gerard back into the lounge. They crossed the room to the closed door that Gerard hadn't been nosey enough to open in his prior exploration of the apartment.

Gerard was the one to open it now, tearing his attention away from Frank as he surveyed the bedroom, the one room he had not yet examined. He smiled. It was like a sigh of relief, looking at Frank's personal space. This room actually looked like its owner. The furniture was made of wood – half-rotten and in shoddy condition by the looks of things – and the walls were covered in faded paper. It looked like old pull-outs from magazines and newspapers. He didn't have time to inspect each one fully, but by the look of the fonts and graphic design Gerard judged that the majority of them were connected to movies and musicians from a few decades prior. His bookcase was filled with a small selection of actual books and it made Gerard's chest flare with warmth. Although Frank had some modern amenities visible - a touchscreen calendar and a flashy computer unit sitting in the corner - the room was undeniably Frank. His sheets were dark but soft-looking and Gerard couldn't wait to press Frank into them.

"This is more like it" he said with a grin. "Not so generic in here, huh?"

Frank laughed and leant in, rising up on his toes slightly so as to reach Gerard's mouth again. Their kisses grew in intensity, plunging deep and clashing teeth occasionally in their fervour. Frank's arms were the first to withdraw from their embrace, sliding his hands under the lapels of Gerard's leather jacket and teasing it off his shoulders to fall to the floor behind him. Gerard was glad to be rid of it, heating up as their movements did the same.

When Frank moved away, settling himself on the bed and kicking off his sneakers Gerard followed suit, bending to untie his boots just enough to wiggle his feet out. As soon as he got a knee on the bed Frank was tugging Gerard on top of him, pulling him in close and hooking his feet around Gerard's calves. It was a happy shock to his system when their hips pressed together, heat spiking in his stomach and increasing his desperation to get Frank naked.

It wasn't long before his fingers were clawing their way underneath Frank's shirt and pushing it up, waiting until the fabric was rucked up against his own chin to tear himself from Frank's mouth and pull it over his head. Frank's skin was warm and soft under his palms, splashed with permanent ink. He was undeniably beautiful, as stupid as it made Gerard feel to think it.

Frank looked nonplussed and vaguely afraid when Gerard pulled back abruptly, looking thoughtful.

"What?"

Gerard was still sat atop him but he had leant over the side of the bed, grasping for Frank's shirt.

"I just needed to check…" he mumbled, tugging at the collar and flipping out the label. His grin was quick and easy, dropping it and fitting himself back against Frank snugly. "100% cotton. Of course."

Frank laughed loudly and pushed his hands underneath Gerard's own shirt to reach the skin beneath.

"You'll be disappointed by me soon enough" Frank said. "I own a great deal of sims and synths that you just haven't seen yet. It'll shatter your illusions."

The word 'yet' stirred in Gerard's gut pleasantly and he didn't waste any time in getting his hand on Frank's fly and beginning to remove both of their jeans.

"Some shattered illusions might be nice" he declared between planting kisses on Frank's mouth and neck in turn. "It'd be a little unnerving if you stayed this perfect."

When both of their jeans and socks had been shucked off Gerard fit their bare skin together wherever possible, rolling his hips over Frank's and pressing down through the thin material of their underwear to ease the pulse in his dick. He felt Frank similarly hard beneath him, pushing up to increase the friction and teasing Gerard's mouth with his tongue.

Before long Frank was pushing on Gerard's side, tipping him over and climbing on top himself. The sheets were warm against Gerard's back where Frank had been laying and the movement of Frank's crotch over his was firm and relentless. He whimpered into Frank's mouth when his dick twitched and was rewarded with the tell-tale sign of what was to come; a trail of kisses from chest into his navel. His stomach fluttered beneath Frank's mouth and he lifted up eagerly when Frank hooked his fingers under the waistband of Gerard's boxer shorts, discarding them immediately and wasting no time in wrapping a saliva-slicked hand around him.

The sensation of direct skin contact was glorious but when Frank dipped his head and took Gerard into his mouth he could do nothing but press his head back into the pillow open-mouthed and ride it out. Frank started slow, licking around the head of Gerard's cock and taking him in as far as he could. When he pulled off he left his mouth close, his lips dragging softly against Gerard as he spoke.

"I've thought about this" Frank said breathlessly, the words tumbling out as he reached down to touch himself. "Thought about your cock in my mouth; how it would be, how it would taste. It's better, so much better."

With that he went down on Gerard again, sliding the sensitive head along the inside of his cheek, wet and warm and smooth. A short moan bubbled out of Gerard's throat and Frank rewarded him by hollowing his cheeks and shuffling his mouth as far down as he could manage. When Frank climbed back up his body he stopped for another kiss, transferring the taste of Gerard's precome and rubbing himself against Gerard's hip, arm outstretched as he reached into the bedside drawer.

There was a moment of silence between them as Frank showed him the bottle of lubricant in his hand, sitting back and letting Gerard lean against the wall.

"I don't have any condoms." He was quiet, but didn't break eye contact. "I mean, I'm clean and I'm sure you are too, but this is a weird situation and it's not… I'd fuck you right now and to hell with the consequences, but it's not right that we ask that of each other. I have some venerad we can both take…if you're cool with this."

Gerard was appreciative both of Frank's honesty and his consideration. Although use of protection was still the most common method of disease prevention, medicine had expanded so far as to be able to treat the early contraction of said diseases. However, the venerads - venereal disease eradication meds - came at a price and were not yet commonplace. It was comforting that Frank was thoughtful enough to insist they mutually take the drugs rather than the chance. He didn't doubt Frank's honesty any more than Frank doubted his, but this was a much fairer arrangement, one that neither of them would object to.

Gerard smiled, placing a hand upon Frank's cheek.

"Beyond." They kissed. "Can I fuck you, Frank?"

"It's kind of what I was angling for" Frank smirked, giving Gerard another couple of firm strokes before swapping positions.

Gerard removed Frank's underwear and spent only a couple of minutes stroking the man underneath him before the lube was impatiently shoved his way. It amused him but he was eager enough himself so didn't dawdle.

Frank was silent, unnervingly so, when Gerard slipped his first finger in. Gerard pressed a kiss to Frank's knee and silently willed the man beneath him to relax. It wasn't long before he added a second, moving back and forth slowly, scissoring occasionally and making Frank suck in a harsh breath. By the time he added a third Frank was used to the stretch, wincing but looking as comfortable with the discomfort as he was going to get. He smiled up at Gerard easily to signify that he was ready and Gerard's stomach churned in anticipation.

Frank scooted down the bed a little further, pulling up his legs and fluffing the pillows beneath his head. Gerard pushed in smoothly, letting his mouth fall lax with the feeling. He hadn't felt anything around his cock but his own hand in far too long. Frank huffed out a breath beneath him and when Gerard was buried to the hilt he bent over Frank's torso and kissed him deeply.

It was different – fucking bareback – and he'd almost forgotten how much. Everything felt closer, sharper. Frank was vocal with each thrust, contorting his eyebrows and gripping onto the inside of Gerard's elbows.

Frank was gorgeous beneath him; sturdy jaw, beautiful mouth and a head of mussed hair that grew more untidy with each drag against the pillowcase. He appreciated the perfect arch in Frank's eyebrows in a way that he hadn't in so long. Frank reminded him of times long passed. The taste of the tobacco in his mouth and appreciating the beauty laid out beneath him made Gerard think of art school, back when UFC was just a distant dream. All at once he felt nostalgic and hopeful, comfortable in his own skin and natural; natural here with Frank. He could do nothing but fuck it out, groaning when the drag of Frank against his cock made his stomach swoop and bring him dangerously close to the edge.

He wasn't ready to tip over that precipice, and by the looks of Frank, tugging at his dick and rolling his hips to meet Gerard, he wasn't either. He wasn't even aware he'd been entertaining the notion until he pulled out of Frank, fixing himself to the younger man's mouth and reversing their positions. Frank went with it, gripping their cocks together and stroking, the lube making the slide quick and sweet. They paused when Gerard hooked his legs around Frank's hips, locking his feet and holding on.

Frank pulled back a little, face perfectly serene when he dusted his fingertips tenderly over Gerard's cheek.

He simply asked: "Are you sure?"

Gerard nodded swiftly, threading his fingers through Frank's hair and giving him a couple of quick kisses.

"It's been a long time, though."

Frank lifted an eyebrow, implying a repeat of the previous question.

"I want you" Gerard told him firmly, floored by the truth of it. His hands were a little shaky with the need when he reached for the bottle of lube.

Frank dragged Gerard back against his mouth furiously as he coated his fingers. Each time they drew apart it was like a magnetic pull, smashing them back together again and increasing their desperation.

Gerard whimpered far more than Frank had while he was being opened up, gritting his teeth. He hummed with as much reassurance as he could muster when Frank pressed kisses to his face, asking if he was alright. He hadn't felt this burn in so long that it almost felt foreign to him. He stuck it out, breathing harshly through the pain and panting with want when it gave over into familiarity.

When Frank was finally inside him it was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. It was simultaneously too much and not enough, Frank rearing back and pushing back in like he'd never wanted anything more. The blunt drag was dizzying, feeling the weight Frank put behind each thrust, going deep even as he picked up speed. The room was filled with the sound of their harsh breath battling together, the sound of skin on skin where Frank collided with him and Gerard's own voice, crying out each time with no regard to how late it was or whether Frank's neighbours would be able to hear.

When Frank struck Gerard just right on the inside his hand flew down to his own dick, smearing precome around the head and jacking, fast and tight. The want that pulsed heavily in his belly began to tighten, curling up hotly and making his feet flex. When he managed to crack open an eye Gerard saw Frank moving relentlessly above him, mouth hanging open and contorting as he grew closer. He looked incredible.

Gerard came first, crying out as it spattered on his chest, pulsing like fire and making him gasp for air. When it eventually fizzled out Frank bent over to taste Gerard's mouth again, hips going wild and losing their rhythm. One of his hands had made it into Gerard's hair, tugging sharply at his scalp in an attempt to steady himself.

"Can I?" he gasped, eyes begging for things his mouth never could.

Gerard replied by hooking his legs around the back of Frank's thighs, pulling him in deeper and rolling his hips with force. Frank was practically gulping in air by now, and Gerard watched his face as he swiftly lost control, mouth contorting and trembling before he shoved in heavily and halted, coating Gerard's insides as he came hard.

Gerard could feel Frank's lungs working against his chest as he came down, and Gerard stroked through his hair as he did so, sighing contentedly. Eventually Frank found the energy to gently pull himself out and curled up, burying himself into Gerard's arms and resting his cheek on his collarbone.


	5. St4ying

**Cat and Mau5**

**Chapter 5 – St4ying**

Gerard dozed on and off for a few minutes until Frank's voice gently roused him.

"What?" he asked, voice a little groggy. Frank was still gathered tightly underneath his arm.

"I didn't ask you about post-coital cuddle etiquette."

It took Gerard a second to work out what he meant. He merely tightened his grip. Frank sighed, relieved by the wordless answer and rubbed his face contentedly against Gerard's skin, sliding a palm up onto his chest. His voice was tentative when he spoke again.

"Will you stay?"

Gerard trailed his fingers up and down Frank's arm. The pause was only for effect. He'd decided on his answer an hour ago.

"Yeah." He watched his fingertips dance over the patterned skin. "I need to leave early though."

There was a pause.

"I know."

Gerard wasn't sure what to say on that count, and so didn't. After a moment Frank sat up and pressed a lingering kiss to Gerard's mouth. He smiled.

"Do you have an alarm for the morning?" he asked.

"On my comm."

"Come on then" Frank said. "We need a shower."

Gerard groaned, still feeling altogether too boneless to even make it to the bathroom let alone prop himself up in the shower. Frank was having none of it. Frank tugged on his hand until he was standing, poking at the congealed come on Gerard's chest as if to illustrate his point. Gerard groaned again but conceded.

Frank poked his head out of the bedroom door, calling out to the empty room.

"Lights on full, blinds closed."

They waited, listening to the clunking of the blinds as they closed via voice command before they wandered naked through the lounge and into the bathroom. The shower looked pretty decent. It was large – a walk in with a ceiling full of jets. Frank gave Gerard a little nudge towards it.

"101 degrees on full" Gerard said, starting the stream immediately. He waited until he could see steam rising from the floor before he stepped in.

The water pressure was amazing, beating down on him in hot lashes. He wiped a hand over his chest, washing away the leftover mess and let the water fill his mouth, dribbling out of the corners. Frank returned a moment later, setting down a glass as he searched through his bathroom cabinet. He presumably found the venerads and turned, taking one in front of Gerard with half the glass. When he was done he held out the remaining water and another pill. Gerard stepped out, looking at Frank when he swallowed it.

"I believe you're clean. You know that, don't you?" Gerard asked, eyes soft as they took in Frank's face.

"I know" Frank told him, taking the glass and setting it beside the sink. "It's just fairer this way."

Gerard held out a hand, leading Frank into the shower and fixing their mouths together. He smiled when he drew back, wrapping his arms around Frank as they got progressively more wet.

"You're real fucking accommodating, you know that?"

"I try."

"Do you?" Gerard asked, withdrawing so that he could retrieve some shower gel from the pump on the wall, lathering it in his hands and beginning to cover Frank's chest and shoulders in suds. "I mean do you do this a lot?"

"You accusing me of being a slut?" Frank grinned, lifting his arms when Gerard motioned as such.

"No accusations" came Gerard's voice from somewhere around Frank's knee. "I'm _asking_ you if you're a slut. It's quite different."

Frank laughed but shook his head, even though Gerard was concentrating more on soaping up his ass.

"No, no. I'm a commitment guy mostly. But there hasn't been anyone to commit to in a while."

Gerard smiled to himself while Frank had his back turned and couldn't see it. Frank's words made his stomach flutter even as he knew it was ridiculous.

"Yeah?" he asked, not sure how far he should push it. "Am I just one guy in a long line of candidates?"

Frank sounded casual with his next words, but Gerard hoped that they made Frank feel as jittery as they did him.

"If you are then you're cutting in front."

Gerard turned Frank to face him and reached for another pump of gel. Their faces were close as he started to lather up Frank's dick, happy to find it a little hard already.

"You just want me for my fame" he chided.

"Maybe" Frank joked right back. "Fucking someone famous is pretty hot."

Gerard laughed, dipping his head and offering another kiss. Frank looked pretty hot himself when water was dripping off the tip of his dick. He went with it when Frank pushed him back gently, reaching for some scented gel to return the favour.

"Is it hard though?" Frank asked. "I mean, is it hard finding someone genuine when your face is plastered everywhere?"

It gave Gerard a little jolt to find that they'd silently but mutually agreed that Frank fell under the genuine category. He considered the question as Frank soaped up his legs, stopping on the way to place a kiss on the tip of his dick. Gerard couldn't even really remember the last time he was intimate with anyone, implying that he hadn't exactly been all that mentally present.

"I guess it is. I dunno." It was a weird thing to remember. No one had ever asked. "In the beginning it was cool, when I was fighting the featherweights and stuff. People were interested in where I came from because I sort of sprung up out of nowhere. I fell into a couple of relationships that way. I had something serious with a guy for a while, but when I got into the heavies and I had to travel a lot more it was really tough on both of us, so we quit while we were ahead." He sighed as Frank came up behind him, ghosting his lips over the back of Gerard's neck and wrapping his arms around to lather his chest. "Since I won the interstellars it hasn't been so fun. That's kind of where that rule came in. I saw a couple of my friends get shit on with exposés and I knew it would happen to me if I didn't cut the crap. I think in the end I found it so hard that I just stopped looking."

"So I'm an exception to the rule."

Gerard wasn't sure if it was a statement or a question. He leant his head back onto Frank's shoulder, relishing the touch of Frank's cock on the back of his thigh.

"Good things come to those who wait, I guess."

"I agree" Frank murmured against his skin.

They took it in turns to shampoo each other's hair, watching each other's faces closely as they lathered in concentration. When they were both adequately soapy they kissed while the jets rinsed them, using the shower gel as lubrication as they jerked each other off.

Their infrequent moans sounded louder, bouncing off the tiled walls and mixing with the sound of running water. Frank's dick felt good in Gerard's hand, hard and weighty. The suds were making his fingers wrinkle. He stroked as fast as he could through the haze of his own pleasure, exploring the inside of Frank's mouth with his tongue. They came within seconds of each other, Gerard gasping as Frank bit his lip.

They laughed a little as they had another quick wash to wipe the fresh come off their legs. Handjobs in the shower. They felt like teenagers.

Gerard got out first, stretching out his back and casting a glance back at Frank who still stood smirking beneath the spray like some sort of illustrated Greek god. It took Gerard a few seconds of looking blankly around the bathroom before he realised that he couldn't find what he was looking for.

"Oh. You don't have a drying tube."

He'd known there was something unfamiliar about Frank's bathroom from the second he poked his head round the door. It seemed too small, and now it was obvious why. The full length body drier that was standard issue in most modern bathrooms was missing.

Frank snorted, obviously having anticipated the reaction. He verbally told the shower to turn itself off and stepped out, retrieving a couple of towels from the cabinet. He unfolded one and wrapped it around Gerard, kissing the end of his nose before picking up the other towel for himself.

"Nope" Frank confirmed. "When I moved in they told me if I wanted a tube I'd have to pay to have the shower ripped out and downsized. Couldn't stretch to it. I love that shower too much."

"I support your decision. It's a fucking pretty shower" Gerard replied as he tried to remember how to adequately dry his hair with a towel.

He'd been spoilt by the hotels he was put up in while he was on the road with UFC. Any half-decent hotel wouldn't be seen dead suggesting that their patrons physically dry themselves with a cloth. It wasn't so bad, though. The towel was cosy and soft against his skin and smelt like Frank's detergent.

Gerard wandered through to the kitchen with the towel wrapped around his shoulders. He eyed the MealMaker and felt his mouth begin to water.

"Hey, Frank? Can I have some more coffee?" he called through.

Frank's voice grew louder as he came closer, leaning naked against the doorway, having abandoned his own towel somewhere along the way.

"Um. You _can; _you can have anything you want. But do you think you _should_? That's pure unadulterated caffeine, you know. And you have to leave in how many hours?"

Gerard looked over to the clock and groaned. It was almost 2am already and his comm was set to go off at 6:30.

"Alright, point taken. Can I just have some water then?"

Frank grinned at him.

"Really, you don't have to ask. Help yourself. If you have time you can have some coffee in the morning before you leave."

Gerard gulped down some water and then crossed to Frank, giving him a light kiss.

"I'll make time. Are you coming to bed? If I sleep now I can get about 4 hours."

"Of course I am" Frank smiled, pushing the towel off Gerard's shoulders and leaving it where it dropped.

They kissed each other before getting into bed and everything felt simple and good. There was no talk of cuddle etiquette this time as Gerard wordlessly curled himself against Frank's back in the dark. Frank snorted as Gerard's cock teased the back of his thigh.

"You can think again. We don't have time for another shower."

Gerard chuckled to himself, choosing not to mention that Frank could suck him off and make sure there was no mess.

"Your ass is against my dick, okay? It's a natural reaction."

Frank hummed in amusement and simply pulled Gerard's arm tighter around him.

Gerard laid with his eyes open for a couple of minutes, trying to talk down his heartbeat and pluck up the courage to ask Frank the question he'd been thinking about ever since he stepped into the shower. He could feel Frank's heart pulsing underneath his hand and it steadied him somehow.

"Frank? Will you come watch my match tomorrow?" He had planned at this point to wait for Frank to give some sort of indication as to his answer, but after 2 seconds of silence he started to babble. "I can get you in for free. I don't know if we'll be able to get you into the crowd, I think it's sold out, but you could watch backstage? You could come have a look at El and you could meet Mikey and maybe we could hook you up to my comm during the fight or something."

Gerard felt Frank shake his head slowly.

"You want me to meet your brother?"

"No, I – maybe? No, wait, that's not what I meant. I didn't mean like meet the family, I meant like meet my chief tech and see the equipment and go backstage and stuff. Like, as a fan if- if you want." There was a pause that made Gerard's heart sink. "Or not. You're probably busy."

Frank laughed shortly and squeezed Gerard's hand.

"I'm sorry. I'd love to. I'm just…worried."

Gerard stroked Frank's arm.

"About what?"

"…I feel like I'm gonna fuck up."

"With me?" Gerard blinked. "Frank, it's been like... 4 hours, have you even had time to fuck up yet?"

"Oh, it doesn't take me long" Frank replied bitterly, tensing up and shifting away slightly. Gerard only moved with him.

"Hey. Don't."

Frank sighed heavily, pressing a kiss to Gerard's arm.

"I'm sorry. I guess I'm overwhelmed or something. I mean, you're _G3rard_. And you're in my fucking bed."

Gerard hooked his chin over Frank's shoulder and smiled even though Frank couldn't see it in the dark.

"I'm just Gerard when we're here, okay? Without the 3. We're just Frank and Gerard."

There was a minute or so of silence before Frank jostled Gerard and giggled.

"You're gonna tell your brother the second you see him, aren't you?"

"So what if I am?" he laughed in reply. "I tell him everything," He let Frank settle down before he pressed the issue once more. "Please come watch me fight, Frank. It would really mean a lot to me if you were there."

There was another pause that Gerard was careful not to interrupt this time.

"Okay" Frank answered eventually. "Yeah, I'll come. But we should talk about this before we leave in the morning, okay?"

Gerard grinned into the darkness, pressing his face into Frank's shoulder. The very fact that there _was_ a 'this' made his heart thud.

"Sure."

They fell into silence and Gerard closed his eyes, snuggling up to Frank and attempting to sleep. Before he knew it his mind was reviewing his earlier match and preparing for the heat in the hours to come.

His match with T45h had been fast-paced, and even a little clumsy. He hadn't meant to knock the ear off, but sometimes the weaker areas of a mau5 simply couldn't stand up to the task. Gerard as a rule didn't tend to aim to injure, especially in early rounds or fights with novice opponents. There were some guys in the big leagues that would do so deliberately, getting their opponent into a position where they could tear off a limb or smash in a dent. Not only did dirty moves like these usually ensure the win but they could leave players out of action for weeks while they try to fix up their bot. An ear would be pretty easy for Tash to fix back on, though, so Gerard didn't feel too guilty.

Just as he was deciding whether to try the fast approach again in the morning Frank let out another huge sigh into the silence. It sounded weary, and Gerard realised that he hadn't been the only one lying awake thinking. He gave Frank a squeeze.

"Are you okay?"

Frank jerked, as if startled, before melting back into Gerard's touch, shifting himself even closer.

"Yeah. Didn't know you were still awake. I'm just having trouble settling tonight, that's all."

"Is it because I'm here?" Gerard asked immediately. "You're not used to it; maybe I should sleep on the couch."

Frank's hand was like a vice on Gerard's forearm.

"Don't you dare get out of this fucking bed."

Gerard bit back a laugh and pressed his lips to the back of Frank's neck, just below the hairline. Frank hummed contentedly and brushed his fingers over Gerard's hand.

"Tell me something."

Gerard barely gave himself time to worry about what he was going to say before the words were tumbling out of his mouth against Frank's skin.

"This doesn't feel like a one night stand." He stretched out his neck to lay his cheek against Frank's. "Nor do I want it to be."

His heart rate was through the roof, and he was sure Frank could feel it, maybe hear it too. Thankfully it didn't seem to matter.

"Neither do I" said Frank, with a smile in his voice. He lifted Gerard's hand and pressed his mouth to a knuckle. "Goodnight, Gerard."


	6. M0rning

**Cat and Mau5**

**Chapter 6 – M0rning**

Gerard didn't particularly want to open his eyes; he was too comfortable. But light was beginning to peek through the blinds and gave him no choice. He had expected to feel a little confused when he woke up, but he found that there was no wondering where he was or how he'd come to be there. He knew he was in Frank's apartment, in Frank's bed and he didn't feel weird about it.

He relented, squinting into the rapidly lightening bedroom and looked over at the other body sharing the sheets. They seemed to have rolled apart during the night and Gerard was lying on his back with Frank curled up beside him an arm's reach away. He was unsurprised to find that Frank looked beautiful when he slept. He'd suspected as much. He smiled to himself, wondering how in the space of a few short hours Frank had gone from a stranger, to a fan, to a one night stand, to something far beyond that.

Reaching over to peek behind the blinds Gerard saw that it was pretty light out. He wondered how much time he had until his comm bleeped to wake him up. If he was lucky he'd have just enough time to wake Frank up with a surprise blowjob. He'd always wanted to do that to someone.

Shuffling up on the pillow a little further Gerard craned his head to catch sight of Frank's electronic calendar that displayed the time in the corner.

His eyes bugged out. 7:37am. It fucking couldn't be.

He practically fell out of bed and stumbled naked across the room to rip his comm from the pocket of his jeans where they laid on Frank's floor. The battery was dead.

He bit off an oath and scooped up all of his clothes, running through to the lounge. He dumped his stuff on the couch while he rifled through his bag for a new battery pack. He stuffed into the device and pressed power, tossing it on the coffee table while he wriggled himself into both fresh underwear and his jeans.

The comm began beeping incessantly when it had booted up. Gerard pulled a plain t-shirt over his head and picked it up, heart hammering with that dangerous sort of I'mlateI'mlate adrenaline. His inbox was overrun with messages and missed calls from both Mikey and Perry. He didn't even have time to look through them yet. The time on his comm confirmed that yes, he'd slept in over an hour later than he'd intended and he was already supposed to have been at the venue for lobby call.

He dug down to the bottom of his bag and shrugged on the khaki shirt he usually wore for fights. He wouldn't have time to dress at the venue at this rate, especially if there were irate members of the press waiting for him to show his face. Gerard tugged on his boots and spared a thought for that cup of authentic coffee he was going to miss out on.

He took a long piss – all that fucking pepsi – and made it back to Frank's bedroom doorway before he copped out. There was no way Gerard had the heart to wake him. He looked so fucking peaceful, and besides, Gerard didn't really have the time to wait around for Frank to get ready as well. He marched back into the lounge and reached into his bag for a blank holographic memo. He held the device up in front of his face and pressed record.

"Hey, Frank. So, my comm battery died and my alarm didn't go off. I'm already almost half an hour late for lobby call and my manager is probably gonna rip my dick off." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed stressfully. "I didn't have time to wait but I wanted to leave you this so you know I'm not skipping out on you like a shitty one night stand or anything. The fight starts at like half 9, so if you make it over to the venue I'd still really like you to be there. It's at The Pyramid. Just ask for Worm, okay, I'll tell him to expect you. If you don't make it maybe I'll swing by later. Check you haven't changed your mind or anything. Um. Hope to see you later."

He took his thumb off the record button and left it on the coffee table with a notification symbol hovering above it. If he had the time he'd have watched it over and probably rerecorded it another 2 or 3 times but he was already pushing it. Gerard made sure the rest of his belongings were stuffed in his bag and hoisted it on his shoulder.

He jogged his way down the stairs of the apartment building and didn't slow until he'd reached the main road. He hovered on the edge of the sidewalk and waved an arm out, hailing down the closest taxi and folding himself into the backseat.

"I need to get to The Pyramid, quick as you can."

"I'll do what I can, sir. A lot of people are heading that way this morning, I'm afraid."

The driver was courteous but definitely human. Gerard could smell fried breakfast on him.

He dug in his pocket for his comm and thumbed through a few of the messages from Mikey.

**Where are u? M**

**R u running late? M**

**Perry's throwing a bitch fit r u close?**

**G where the fuck r u? Y is ur comm off?**

He gave in and pressed call, adrenaline still pumping in his veins. When Mikey's face flooded the screen it was understandably agitated, but because they were brothers Gerard could also see the relief.

"Fucking finally" Mikey groaned. "Gerard, where the hell have you been? Perry's about ready to explode."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, my comm died."

"He's been calling round all the local hotels and everything, where the hell did you stay last night?"

Gerard coloured and he knew Mikey could see it on the video.

"That doesn't matter right now. How much shit am I in? Was there press?"

Mikey's eyes narrowed but he chose not to pursue his curiosity. Yet.

"A little bit. We had to fob them off for now but there'll be time when you get here. Just please tell me you're on your way."

"I'm in the cab. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"I'll have Worm and a couple of the guys wait out front."

"Thanks. Be there soon."

Gerard was under no illusions that the fans had probably worked out he had yet to arrive. There were bound to be some waiting.

Gerard flicked through the remainder of his messages, wincing at some of the choice words Perry had chosen to slip in there. He hoped Mikey would pass on the message so that he could put off _that_ conversation as long as possible. He looked out of the window where they'd already become trapped in a wall of traffic. It was just gone 8am; the road was full of both employees on their way to work and people on their way to the venue just like Gerard.

He sighed heavily as they sat there unable to move.

"Trying my best, buddy" came the cab driver's voice from the front. "You know I can whack us into levitation if you have the hundred bucks to cover it. If you're that desperate, I mean."

Gerard took a glance inside his wallet briefly, shook his head.

"I am but I don't have the credits for it."

Gerard met his eyes in the rear-view mirror and picked out the exact moment the guy clocked him.

"Wait, you're G3rard?"

Gerard smiled weakly.

"Yep."

"I guess you're pretty late then, huh?"

"Yeah, sorta." Gerard pinched the bridge of his nose and screwed his eyes shut. "Is there nothing you can do?"

"Well… My niece freakin' loves you, man. I'd be uncle of the year if I came back with something with your signature on it."

Gerard sighed in relief. He didn't usually like to use his fame to his advantage, but in this case he knew he could make the exception guiltlessly. Now was not the time to be missing matches, not while he was climbing up to the World Championships. He threw an arm up in the air, defeated.

"I'll go one better. I record her a holomemo and you shift us into hover, alright?"

The cabby grinned into the mirror, already hitting the correct gears. Gerard sighed in relief, tugging another memo out of his bag and asking the cabby for his niece's name to record a message that was far more pleasant and obliging than he felt.

The airways were a lot less clogged, and they flew above the bulk of the traffic seamlessly, getting to the venue in a fraction of the time it would have taken on the road. As predicted there was quite a gathering of fans, holding up signs and screaming Gerard's name as they spotted him through the window.

Gerard waved at Worm, beckoning him and a couple of his lackeys over to shield him from the crowds as he got out of the car. He fumbled his way out of the cab, thanking the driver profusely and sending well wishes to his niece.

"Nice of you to turn up" Worm smirked kindly, getting an arm around Gerard to steer him into the staff entrance of the venue. "Perry's doing his nut."

"Don't fucking remind me" Gerard grumbled, trying his best to smile and wave at the fans so they got at least something for their wait.

The adrenaline had finally abated now that he was inside the venue and he breathed calmly for the first time since he'd left Frank in bed. He shook his head, remembering, and regarded Worm as he walked him through the backstage corridors to get to his team.

"Hey, Worm, I've got a guest coming along later." (He hoped.) "Could you wait out front and bring him backstage?"

"Yeah, sure. Who am I looking for?"

"His name's Frank. Short, tattooed. I told him to ask for you. If he's not here before I go on bring him to Mikey, alright?"

"Sure thing, boss. He a friend?"

A little smile played around Gerard's mouth and he was glad Worm wasn't looking.

"Yeah. He is."

Worm left to wait for Frank as soon as he'd dropped Gerard off at the team room. Gerard was glad to see that they hadn't taken El out front yet. Mikey looked relieved to see him, and came forward for a hug before he did anything else.

"Where's Perry?" Gerard asked as he wrapped an arm around his brother.

"Still schmoozing the press, I suppose. It won't be long 'til he feeds you to them."

"No, I know." Gerard drew back and walked toward his mau5, who turned her massive head in his direction as he approached. "You feelin' okay, princess? I'll see you in a little bit, alright? We're gonna kick some ass today."

Gerard gave a nod to the nearby tech who began to lead her out to the venue and set her up. Mikey was shaking his head in amusement.

"You're like Ash fucking Ketchum with that thing."

It was an old reference, but one that Gerard got, and he grinned accordingly. Unfortunately for him that's when Mikey decided to pounce, instructing the remaining members of tech support to go out front and help set up so that they were alone.

"Gerard."

He didn't even need to add another word for Gerard to start blushing. Mikey could see straight through him and Gerard was thoroughly aware of it. He should have known that Mikey would demand to know even before Gerard would elect to tell him.

Gerard went to get a coffee from the MealMaker they'd been provided with as he began to talk. It was a far cry away from what Frank had stocked up, but in comparison to some of the sludge he'd had to choke down in the past it was pretty decent.

"Okay, so I didn't stay in a hotel. …I met someone and I went back to his place."

Mikey's face was carefully blank, as usual. Gerard simply kept talking.

"Before you even say it, I know I don't do that. But at the risk of sounding like the worst fucking cliché, this guy is different." He took a sip of his coffee. "I went to a bar after the fight and we got talking and I don't know. There's something about him. We just click. So I went back to his place."

"You're making it sound very simple."

"It was."

Mikey watched Gerard's face for a few seconds, letting it sink in.

"It's serious."

"Maybe. I want it to be. It just didn't feel like a onetime deal, Mikey, you know? It didn't even feel like an every-time-I'm-in-town kind of deal. It just felt like…a thing. A proper thing."

Mikey nodded. He already believed it. Gerard fucking loved Mikey.

"So, listen. I invited him to come backstage today."

Mikey goggled a little. It was a weird sight. Not much shocked Mikey, but apparently this had. Gerard had to smother his laughter with his mug.

"You don't hang about, do you?" Mikey laughed dryly. "Okay, well cool. What's he like?"

Gerard gave a brief description, trying not to look too dreamy-eyed while he did so. Just as he was beginning to enthuse about how great Frank's coffee had tasted Perry burst through the door looking flustered.

"What the hell are you doing sitting around? Get your ass over to the press room in the next 5 seconds and I don't skin you for being over an hour late."

Gerard set aside his mug and got out of his seat immediately, knowing not to push his luck. He threw Mikey a grin as he scuttled obediently out of the room.

Gerard spent a few minutes with each press member individually, posing for accompanying photos and sincerely apologising for the wait. The questions were all pretty standard – did he feel prepared for the tournament, was he hopeful that he'd make the World Championships, who did he expect to face in the later rounds. He tried to give decent answers, switching it up so that no two articles would be the same, and was certainly thankful when question time drew to a close and he was beckoned back to the team room.

Now that the press were off his back Perry seemed a lot more relaxed, letting Gerard's tardiness slip by with nothing but a teasing smack round the back of the head. There wasn't long to go now. Mikey had already prepared him a cup of coffee, which Gerard sipped with only the slightest wrinkle of his nose.

"Mikey, has Worm heard anything?"

He tried to keep his tone casual in front of Perry.

"Not a peep. He's still out front. Do you want him to wait?"

He nodded, draining the last of his mug. He didn't really want to think about the walk of shame he'd have to take to Frank's apartment if he didn't show up. However he set the thought aside, too professional to let personal thoughts wage war with his upcoming match.

Mikey pressed a hand to the comm piece in his ear. Gerard looked up hopefully.

"You're on in 5."

A jolt of simultaneous disappointment and nervousness zinged through Gerard's chest and he set aside his empty cup. There wasn't any time to worry about Frank right now. If he turned up, Mikey would let him know and he'd enjoy the match. If he didn't… well, Gerard would deal with that later.

He got to his feet, adjusting the cuffs of his khaki shirt and reaching into his bag to retrieve his signature sunglasses. Mikey gave him a short hug as he did before every match, and the venue droid appeared in the doorway to escort him to the arena. The rest of the team wished Gerard luck as he walked past and he slid the glasses into his hair, mentally preparing himself.

There wasn't enough time for make up so the beauty droid was waved away immediately as Gerard was led towards the arena. He shifted on his feet, clenching and unclenching his hands, fixing his gaze on the wall in front of him while he waited to be counted in.

This venue was a lot more modern than the one he'd fought in the previous morning. The wing was soundproof, leaving Gerard with no indication as to how the crowd were going to react to his arrival. He was going on first.

"The best of luck to you, Mr. Way," the droid purred. "You're on in 3- 2- 1."

Gerard pushed through the sound barrier and was greeted by a room full of cheers, as the announcer read off his stats over the loudspeaker. The screams helped to settle his nerves, steeling his confidence. He was bracketed by two venue security guards on his walk down to the pyramid.

Gerard was thankful for the protection of his yellow-rimmed shades. From behind their shield he could scan the faces in the crowd whilst still projecting every ounce of confidence that his fans had come to expect. He surveyed the face of the girl screaming at him with love in her eyes; the group of rowdy drunk men, slurring and punching the air in anticipation; the young boy looking up at his hero in awe. But no Frank.

On impulse Gerard threw an arm out to touch the hand of the girl thrusting hers forth the furthest. She screamed with glee, making him grin as he passed her. He stepped into the pointed structure and spun, waving for the crowds up in the top row.

He took a couple more seconds to bask in the sound of his audience before he mentally withdrew himself, approaching his station and reaching for the controller. Gerard cast a quick glance up at his mau5 and then their opponent's, which was green with a jagged mouth and one crossed out eye.

The announcer began to introduce his opponent and Gerard turned his head, interested to see who was going to walk out from behind the curtain.

_And his opponent, hailing from New Jersey~_

Gerard barely had time to think 'oh, snap' before everything tangible fell away. He froze, eyes wide, gripping the controller tight in one hand. The man walking down the ramp had the good grace to suppress his grin to a tame smile, hands tucked into the pockets of his black jeans. Gerard could barely swallow, barely breathe. He could hear nothing but the ringing in his ears, the moving mouths of the audience producing no sound that he could focus on.

It was Frank.


	7. F1ght

**Cat and Mau5**

**Chapter 7 – F1ght**

Slowly but surely Gerard's senses returned to him. Eventually he softened the painful grip he had on his controller and acute tinnitus gave way to the audience cheering, the announcer over the loud speaker and Mikey in his ear. Longer-than-standard blinks weren't erasing the sight of Frank approaching the pyramid, so Gerard forced himself to turn back around, holding himself rigid as he stared straight ahead at his control station. El was looking down at him with what most would see as a blank stare but Gerard interpreted as concern.

"It's okay," he said tightly, jaw clenched. "It makes no fucking difference who it is."

He ignored Mikey's concerned noises in his ear and stretched out his controller wire, letting instinct dictate his movements in preparing for the match. There was no part of him that wasn't soaked with tension, trying to ignore the part of his brain that was freaking the fuck out.

"Gerard!"

Mikey's voice had been growing progressively more insistent as Frank ambled down the ramp and it had been chipping away at Gerard's resolve.

"That's him," Gerard said, his lungs taking that as permission to violently empty. "It's him. Frank from last night."

Mikey's silence on the other end was heavy. Gerard startled as he saw Frank enter the pyramid in the corner of his eye. He pointedly ignored him and looked straight ahead. It would have been easier to just swallow his pride and meet Frank's eye, but he didn't know how.

Frank's presence in the adjacent chair was suffocating and Gerard took a few moments behind his shades to close his eyes, collecting himself as much as was possible. He was dimly aware of Frank setting up his equipment and something in his brain faintly sparked, reminding him that he should be doing the same thing.

Keeping one half of his consciousness trained on the man nearby – his apparent opponent what the fuck – the other half skimmed over his own stats. Mikey stayed mostly silent on the line. The referee milled about the 'ring' while the audience chattered during their wait.

"Are you ready, sir?"

Gerard looked up, a little startled by the ref's voice and outstretched arm not quite touching him. He had no idea.

For the first time he allowed himself to look over at Frank, who was sitting comfortably in his chair, one leg folded underneath himself. Frank was already looking back at him, his chin braced on one hand while the other dangled between his knees holding his controller. He didn't look nearly as freaked out as Gerard did, which was obvious once he realised that Frank had known about this all along. He'd known when he sat next to Gerard in the bar, he'd known when his hands had been skittering across Gerard's skin and he'd known when Gerard had asked him to come to watch the match he would in fact be participating in.

The tattoos that Gerard had been fascinated by the previous night curled around Frank's fingers, looking much more vibrant under the stage lighting. Gerard was almost certain that he was wearing the same pair of beat up jeans and a plain t-shirt, over which Frank had thrown a soft-looking red cardigan. His dark brown hair was all ruffled and dishevelled as if he'd just stumbled out of bed, which Gerard realised with a mortifying blush, he had.

It only took one quirk of Frank's perfectly arched eyebrow to make his decision.

"Can we just have a minute?" he asked the referee, gesturing between Frank and himself, stomach dancing unpleasantly.

The ref granted his request immediately, waving his arm in a gesture that signified for them to 'go ahead'. When Gerard pushed off his seat and Frank shortly followed the crowd erupted into rumbling curious chatter. Mikey muttered warnings into his ear which he swiftly dismissed.

They met in the space between their control units. The way Frank was looking at him with a bland smile only served to spike Gerard's anger. However when he looked closer, the almond-shaped eyes didn't look quite as calm. Before Gerard could even settle on what to say, Frank was speaking first through smiling lips.

"It'll be worse if you make a scene." His voice was only just loud enough to be heard. Gerard noticed the hand Frank had casually curled over the microphone tucked into one of the loopholes of his cardigan. "Just keep cool."

Gerard looked at him behind his sunglasses for a few moments before concealing his own mic, shifting on his feet. He cocked his head, mouth set in a tight line.

"413?"

"Fr4nk13."

Gerard shook his head, too many avenues of conversation zipping through his mind. He went for the simple mode of attack.

"What the fuck?"

"Don't," Frank smiled tightly. "Listen, Gerard-"

"No, you listen to me," Gerard said, sharply but quietly. "This isn't gonna work. I don't know what the fuck you were trying to play, get me to go soft on you or something, but it's not going to work. The fan spiel was really great, honestly; a subtle performance. I applaud you. But what happened afterwards was a mistake, alright? You go ahead, do a kiss and tell if that's what you're here for, see if I care. But it won't stop me from kicking your ass."

He turned on his heel and strode back to his control panel, not allowing Frank time to react. Gerard kept his teeth clenched as he reached for his controller, stretching out the wire again as he tried to ignore the curious murmurings of the crowd all around him.

"Sir?" The referee looked sort of concerned. "Are you ready to begin?"

Gerard nodded brusquely and waved him away. Eventually Frank gave up calling his name and sighed, also signalling that he was ready.

Gerard could feel the stress forming knots in the back of his neck and just wanted it to be over. His blood was boiling with humiliation. He wished he could erase everything that had happened after that fight with Tash. He wished he'd never walked into that bar, never leant forward for the first kiss and never allowed himself to feel that it was ever going to be more than a one-night stand.

But he couldn't go back in time. The only thing he could do now was to not let it rattle him; to beat Frank and walk away.

For the first time since he called for a time out Gerard was really conscious of the silence in his ear.

"Mikey?"

"I'm here."

"Are you mad?"

"I'm not mad."

"…But?"

"But that was a stupid thing to do."

Gerard thought about his team backstage. Covering the microphone would have obscured his words from the media crew but he was pretty sure by Mikey's tone more than anything else that his own tech had picked up the sound. Which meant that he had one hell of a conversation with Perry waiting for him at the end of this match.

"Yeah," he said, instead of arguing.

"Don't worry about it, G. You're about to hit 19 wins in a row."

Gerard sucked in a sharp breath and nodded to himself.

The ring girl tottered into the pyramid and held the 'Round 1' placard high above her head with a gleaming smile. The way Frank raised his eyebrows at her cheekily set Gerard's teeth on edge. Frank caught him looking and elaborately shrugged, shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

The referee counted them in.

Gerard was caught off guard by the speed of Frank's first move and his mau5 took a sharp blow to the chest. Bristling, Gerard slammed a command on his control panel so hard that his palm stung. He executed the counter-attack, but the swift elbow to the cheek and punch to the head that Frank manoeuvred into smoothly left El sinking down on one knee.

Gerard's blood was pumping so hard he could feel it. It pulsed thickly where the skin of his hands pressed tightly against the controller and it ran hot with anger.

Once again Gerard just managed to get in a punch before Frank's mau5 put its paws on El's shoulders, knocking her to her knees before booting her in the chest and laying her flat on her back.

Gerard's stomach spiked with adrenaline as he cried out. His fingers flew over the controls, running on survival instinct. _This isn't it. This can't be it. _

"Get up! Get the fuck up!"

To his relief El responded quickly. She struggled up onto one knee but was once again laid out by a kick to her mid-section.

Eyes blown wide with madness Gerard looked over at Frank. The cocky smile he was met with almost made him nauseous. Frank's legs were folded up on the chair and one arm was thrown over the back of it. His controller hung in his right hand, fingers poised to strike with the same move the next time El made it to her feet.

This couldn't be happening. Gerard was a fucking professional. He was the best, the fucking best. But he couldn't separate himself. He couldn't distance himself from his opponent like he usually would, methodically strategizing until he was crowned victor. Gerard was all too aware who sat across from him, was all too aware how kind he'd been, how good he'd tasted.

He shook his head like it would help.

"Focus," said Mikey in his ear. "Find another angle."

Gerard nodded, mind racing a mile a minute to find a solution.

Quick as a flash he had El brace her paws on the floor beside her head, and using the strength in her 14-foot legs had her propel through the air to dropkick 413 and get to her feet.

The audience roared like they were the luckiest people on earth when Gerard gave Frank a taste of his own medicine, making his mau5 kick Frank's a little harder than necessary to prevent it from getting up.

He looked over again and smirked like _how do you like it?_ He was a little irked when Frank positively grinned back, not looking even a little pissed.

The referee stepped in to break it up before the match cycled round and round with alternate mau5bots confined to the floor. Gerard had to manoeuvre El back a few paces while 413 picked itself up.

They waited to be counted in again and smashed their controls. Their bots ended up grappling paw to paw, locked in a war of strength. Gerard didn't see it coming when 413 had ducked one paw, slamming it back upwards in an uppercut and a quick blow to the midsection. Before Gerard could retaliate Frank's mau5 had ducked and kicked El's legs out from under her.

The three count passed Gerard in a daze, sucking in breath as the crowd went ballistic.

All of a sudden Gerard felt closed in. He was surrounded on all sides by people screaming for Frank instead of him, and although it made him sick to his stomach, that bothered him. Who the fuck even was Frank? Gerard had been working at this for years but now some smarmy little shit was about to pull the world championships from underneath him? That was bullshit.

Gerard was grateful when the referee informed them there was a 3 minute interval for sponsor messages. He needed time to collect himself. Losing the next round was not an option.

He slid a hand up into his hair, gripping at the roots and tugging lightly, trying to stimulate his brain into formulating a strategy. Strength hadn't worked. Speed hadn't worked. Gerard was the one who was well and truly psyched out so mind games weren't an option. What the fuck was there left?

"I've got nothing."

Gerard had said it mostly to himself but he was still relieved when Mikey's voice popped up in his ear.

"Hey, stop. Don't give up just because he got one round over on you. You were just being generous. You can still pull this back."

Gerard wanted to believe it. Whatever must it be like, he wondered, to be one of his fans at this very moment, watching him splutter and drown before them?

It was absurd how much he'd already been rattled. He tried to bring memories of past victories to mind and came up blank. His last fight felt like months ago rather than the 12 hours that had passed in reality. Why could he find no threads of thought, no tantalising little tangles to tug on to claw his way out of this?

The crowd roared in Gerard's ears like aggressive tinnitus that would follow him to sleep. And if he could just have a second, just a moment of silence to _think_. But there was none. There was no time, and the referee was signalling in his direction with a questioning look upon his face; was Gerard ready to continue?

Of course he fucking wasn't. But he nodded anyway. What else could he do? Ask for more time, let Frank lounge in his chair and know just how deep he'd buried beneath Gerard's skin? No.

"I'm ready."

Gerard's words incited a jubilous cry from the audience that settled in the pit of his belly like ice. He pointedly didn't look in Frank's direction as he stroked his fingers back over the controls to coax El back into the centre of the ring.

The second they were counted in for Round 2 Gerard's fingers flew over the controls. A full-frontal attack was the only game plan he could muster and it caught Frank by surprise, such that the arena was filled with the cacophony of clashing metal as blue paws repeatedly collided with the green cheeks of the opposition.

The crowd were up on their feet, cheering with glee as their hero appeared to be back on top, but Gerard had stopped listening. After a few seconds Frank had recovered from shock and had raised the paws of his mau5 so that the two were once again locked in a grapple of strength.

They remained that way for a little while, struggling against the other until something had to give, and El ducked, coming up with a shoulder block to the underside of 413's chin. Frank was quick off the mark, steadying his mau5 back on its heels. He used the resulting momentum to roll forwards and hit El with the full force of its body, propelling her closer to the pyramid the two players were encased in.

Gerard's heart leapt into his throat as he had visions of El faltering and the whole thing being over. He managed to steady her at the last second, preventing the drop and inciting another spike of noise from the crowd. But Frank was too quick. His mau5 had already shifted closer, hitting Gerard's in the side of the side with a devastating blow. The momentum spun her around so that she dropped to one knee, looming over her user.

"Pick her up, pick her up," urged Mikey in his ear.

Gerard slammed his hand against his panel, trying to do just that, and was looking upward at the exact moment that Frank misjudged a jab to the back of El's head, tipping her forward so that she impaled her eye on the pyramid's point.

The audience began to scream, but Gerard couldn't hear them over the sound of his own. Acrylic shards glistened in the stage lights as they rained down onto the pyramid's occupants. Gerard curled up in his chair as much as he could, dropping his controller and using his forearms as an umbrella to protect his head. He could feel the jagged edges slicing into his skin as they bounced off him onto the floor and he felt nauseous as the sound of his blood rushed in his ears.


End file.
